


Stars shine upon the battlefield

by kiaealterego



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Battle of Beleriand, Gen, Missing Scene, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaealterego/pseuds/kiaealterego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the North an army of Orcs descend upon the elves of Middle-Earth and King Thingol seeks help from King Denethor, Lord of Ossiriand.<br/>Urwen, a young Nandor huntress, chooses to follow his parents to defend their people and come to the aid of her brothers.<br/>The outcome of this battle, the first battle of Beleriand, will change the Nandor forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars shine upon the battlefield

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Le stelle brillano sul campo di battaglia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775327) by [kiaealterego](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaealterego/pseuds/kiaealterego). 



> Another translation! I’m killing myself.

"Mother, please."

Her mother turned to her, the fire catching the red shadows of her hair and deepening the propitiatory painting signs on her cheeks.

"It won't be necessary, Carassel. The Queen of the Stars will protect me."

Urwen pursed her lips, to stifle any protest, and looked up at the black sky. The stars shone, silent.

_The Queen of the Stars is far away and the only thing she can do is watching._

Urwen looked down and tightened the leather bodice laces on her right side.

"The Queen of the Stars will give us courage."

Urwen turned to Sùldor. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-smile and slapped his bare chest covered by paintings with his fist. Queen of the Earth's curves and Lord of the Forests' symbols stood out dark on his fair skin. He wore a leather collar with stars painted white and his hair were woven with feathers and hemp.

"Don't you think, Urwen?"

With a sigh, Urwen tightened the leather bodice laces on her left side.

Legoldir rested an elbow on Sùldor's shoulder. "Are you afraid the Orcs see you, little girl?"

Urwen adjusted the leather on her forearms and tied other leather around her thighs.

"Mine is common sense. The bear's skin is thick but this does not diminish its worth."

Sùldor crossed his arms. "Not even the King is hiding behind robes and boiled leather. It's not natural."

Urwen tied other leather around her calves. "The King makes decisions that he feels right for us. Like helping our brothers against the Dark Hunter."

"And he would give us good example." Legoldir laughed and Sùldor shook his head. Urwen shrugged.

"You don't see it, but I'm wearing my paintings too," she added.

A drumbeat vibrated in the air and Urwen winced. The drum rhythm increased and she stood, approaching the fire. Her mother was already there, as were her father, Sùldor, Legoldir and Rhosdir, dressed in bear skin.

Everyone gathered around the King.

He raised both arms and the rhythm of the drum stopped. The King wore a crown of antlers and a long robe of vine on the shoulders, his bare chest was covered in wooden and bone beaded necklaces while his silvery hair were loose.

"Hunters!"

Urwen shouted in reply, along with everyone else around the King.

"Sing and dance with me! The Queen of the Stars will give us courage, the Queen of the Earth will harden our skins and the Lord of the Forests will guide our arrows!"

Everyone shouted and the drum started to beat again. Urwen dipped her fingers into black paint and drew the Queen of the Earth's lines on her face. Then she joined her comrades in the dance around the fire.

***

The messenger ran down the hill, hair in the wind. He reached the plain and crossed it, disappearing between the ranks of King Graymantle's army.

Far to the North, Orcs were marching, a long black column that was lost in the horizon.

Urwen lifted her gaze to the sky. No cloud darkened the stars: they would witness the battle shining bright.

_Give us strength, Queen of the Stars._

Urwen turned her gaze to the King, standing at the highest point of the hill, motionless and proud, his silvery hair tied into a high ponytail and dark paint on his cheeks. He scanned the horizon and didn't seem wanting to give any order. From where she stood, she could only guess his expression: his jaw clenched and his mouth stretched in a line.

Urwen turned her gaze again at the hill bottom. Those beasts, those _dregs_ , were too far away to the reach of her bow. To the reach of any of their bows.

_How many are there?_

Northwest, King Greymantle's army stood, only the glittering tips of the spears betrayed its presence.

The Orcs were advancing.

Urwen tightened the laces that held firm her hardened leather hood. Her spear was on the ground, at hand, as well as the arrows. Urwen grazed the empennage. She would stuck each of those arrows in the body of a different Orc.

_But it wasn't enough._

It didn't matter. She had her spear and her stone blade axe, when arrows would terminate. The shield was at her feet and Urwen wore leather armour, despite the jokes of her comrades. She was prepared to her best to deal with that threat: the Orcs would never reach her home.

The dark figure of the messenger emerged from the ranks of King Graymantle's soldiers.

The black mass of Orcs stood at the foot of the hill. King Greymantle soldiers lowered their spears with a fluid motion.

A group of three Orcs broke away from the main army and was in hot pursuit of the messenger. The messenger fell to the ground, an arrow sticking out his thigh. The Orcs fell upon him.

Horns echoed in the plain.

"Death upon them!" shouted someone left of Urwen. She held the bow tighter and took an arrow before looking up on the King.

Still, his lips thinned, the King's eye narrowed and, with the propitiatory paintings, he became the Warrior King they needed.

"Hunters!" came his voice, loud and clear.

Urwen raised her bow and shouted in reply, together with her comrades, while some of them where beating their weapon handles against their shields.

The King ran his eyes over them, as if he wanted to look them one by one. He raised his arm holding the white-painted wood spear and its metal tip glinted in the starlight.

"Get ready to descend upon the Orcs! Hit them without mercy, and remember, this hill is the entrance to our homes: _protect it at all costs_. Archers! Ensure the latest posts and prepare your bows. The Lord of the Forests will guide your arrows!"

***

Urwen had lost count of how many had died. The arrows ended, the shaft of her spear shattered. But the Orcs surrounded her and she had no time to _think_.

Urwen lowered the axe on the Orc's neck, in the space between the helmet and the metal plate covering his chest. Black blood spurted from the wound, but she had already pulled back her arm and brought forth her shield to parry the blow of the Orc to her right. The wooden shield creaked.

_Slow._

Urwen let the blade slid away from the shield and kicked the Orc. Her foot encountered his iron shield while the Orc on the left swung and hit her on the shoulder leather strap. The blow threw her off balance and she fell on the corpse of the first Orc.

Urwen rolled away and the Orc planted his sword in the corpse while she slashed the other one's exposed thigh. The beast screamed and Urwen pushed him against his companion, still committed to free his sword. Urwen struck him in the head with her axe and the iron helmet splintered the battered stone, but the blade pulped his snout.

_Wher...?_

A grunt behind her and she turned around, backing, as a blade hit her flank. The leather gave away and the sword, tearing down the skin, sank into her flesh. Pain exploded and Urwen yelled, but bashed the Orc's snout with the shield. When the beast's head went back exposing his throat, Urwen lowered the axe and a splash of black foul blood blew out his screams.

Another Orc faced her. Urwen shoved his comrade corpse against him, but the Orc avoided it and stood, watching her. Ugly, determined and armed with iron.

Urwen blinked and strained her back muscles, clenching her smooth axe handle, ignoring her aching arms. No noise of Orcs behind her nor to her sides.

The Orc raised his blade and she parried the blow with her shield, while, with a movement from below, she aimed at the knee.

The Orc stepped back, its face distorted by a smile, and struck on the hand that was holding the axe with his shield. Urwen squeezed her fingers, but the blow had numbed her hand and the axe fell on the ground.

_No!_

She raised the shield and the wood groaned under yet another blow. Urwen pulled the flint knife from her belt and threw it against the beast head. When the Orc lowered himself and turned to watch the kinfe disappearing in the distance, she reached down and recovered her axe, buring the stone blade into the Orc's elbow flesh. The beast roared and raised his shield.

_Die!_

Urwen hit its head protected by its helmet once, twice, three times, until the Orc fell down on its knees. She landed a blow between neck and shoulder with the axe and the beast fell on the ground.

Urwen stepped back and turned around, shield ready to parry and axe ready to feed on the blood of other Orcs.

But there were no other Orcs.

No Orcs alive in front of her.

No Orcs alive near her.

_Is it over?_

She screamed, her voice hoarse, and rapped the axe against the shield.

_It's over!_

Where were King Graymantle's soldiers? Urwen narrowed her eyes toward Northwest. The Orcs were running down the hill to the North. King Greymantle's army was only a few steps from the top of Amon Ereb, West, the long metal spiked spears sparkling under the starlight.

Urwen raised her axe and screamed again. Others answered around her, hoarse screaming in the distance.

It was over. They had won!

Urwen relaxed her sore arm and took a large breath. She was alive, bruised but alive. She looked up at the sky and the stars twinkled, smiling brighter than before the battle, almost like the Queen of the Stars herself rejoiced with them. Not a cloud darkened them. They were there, silent witnesses of that battle and victory.

Urwen threw another cry. They had driven away the Dark Hunter creatures!

The Orcs corpses surrounded her and the smell of blood was strong and nauseating. Urwen lifted her axe: it was rough, the stone chipped, but it was still sharp and black with the blood of her enemies. She touched the flank where the Orc had hurt her. The blood had stained the leather armour, but it was already dry and she released the sigh that he had withheld. The leather had protected her. She hoped that her companions without the bear skin had not fallen under the blows of iron swords.

The arm holding the shield was numb but Urwen moved it without difficulty. She had a cut on her thigh and, judging by the pain, she must have other bruising where the weapons of the Orcs had struck. The leather had held, but was scratched and she found other cuts: some had not reached under clothes, others had scratched the skin, though none had penetrated deeply as the one on her side. Urwen grazed her face and grasped, feeling the pain when she passed her finger on her lip, finding it broken. The nose was still there, even though it had been hit, and the blood was dry on her chin.

A noise behind her and she turned around, shield raised and axe ready to strike.

The Elf facing her had the right side of his face covered in black and red blood, but his gaze was clear. There was a dark cut above his eyebrow and the left arm dangled, inert, along his side. His bear skin was scratched but not torn.

Urwen relaxed her position. Rhosdir smiled at her. "You're alive".

Urwen nodded but a lump thightened her throat.

"My mother?"

"She's alive" Rhosdir glanced "but she's wounded."

Urwen gulped. She untied the ropes that held the leather hood and took it off.

"Take me to her."

Rhosdir turned and walked towards the top of the hill. The Orcs corpses were everywhere, along with the bodies of their comrades. Urwen looked away from the ground and fixed her gaze on Rhosdir's shoulders, but her body was shaking.

_How many died?_

When they arrived at the top of the hill, Urwen swayed, her legs refusing to support her. The corpses piled in heaps were too many, too many were the tortured bodies of their companions. Rhosdir turned and grabbed her by the arm.

"You okay?" asked her, his eybrow arched under his wound.

Urwen shook her head and fell to her knees. Her body was shaking, cold sweat running down her spine. The breeze brought the smell of blood and the stench of slaughtered corpses from the slopes of the hill. She gagged and then vomited bile and saliva on the grass. Rhosdir stood by, holding a hand to her forehead. Urwen met his look but there was no judgment in his eyes. He was silent beside her, until she took a deep breath and sat up.

"Shall we go?"

Urwen nodded.

Rhosdir took her by the arm and she let him help her walk the last stretch of road up to the tents that were setting up. Her body continued to shake and her legs weren't able to support it.

"King Greymantle's soldiers have reached us and Orcs are fleeing" Rhosdir's voice was dull, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her "one part of those soldiers went to hunt down the fleeing Orcs".

Urwen swallowed, the sour taste of bile still in her throat, "if King Graymantle reached us just now, what happened on the hill?"

"The King is dead."

Urwen raised her head, his father's voice was like being run over by a frozen waterfall. He reached them, he had purple shadows under his eyes and his close-cropped hair, the sign of mourning, were stuck to the sweaty forehead.

"Father ...?"

Her father smiled but took her face between his hands, tears in his eyes, and kissed her forehead. "You're alive, Carassel".

He puts his arm around her waist, freeing Rhosdir from her weight.

"Your mother is stable," he said, voice tired "Let's go to the tent. Come on, Rhosdir. The battle is over, let King Greymantle deal with those fleeing beasts".

***

Her mother opened her eyes and turned her head. She pulled her pale lips and a smile lit up her face.

Urwen took her hand and squeezed it.

"Mother…"

Seeing her there, so weak, her heart sank. Her father had assured Urwen that her mother was out of danger, they did not have to worry. But her leg was missing below the knee, and Urwen tighten her lips. How would be like for her to live like that? Could she climb trees? Could she hunt again with her? Would she bear those limits?

"You were right, Carassel" her mother said with a whisper.

Urwen shook her head. "It is not important now."

Of course, the leather armor had protected her. But what if all of them had worn it? There would really have been fewer deaths?

Urwen looked into her mother's eyes.

_How many survived?_

The question was on her lips and Urwen squeezed them, driving away the faces of her comrades, _friends_ , crushed, their bodies broken, covered in part by the dead corpses of their enemies.

Her mother raised the hand that Urwen held close and stroked her cheek, her fingers light on the bruise on her cheekbone.

Urwen let the tears slide down her cheeks.

"Rest now" she whispered.

"All telling me to rest" snorted her mother "but I'll listen to you, if you will homage the King for me"

Urwen kissed her mother's forehead.

"I'll do it. I'm going to borrow your knife".

Her mother's lips bent in a crooked smile, while Urwen took the flint knife from the belt.

Her mother grabbed her wrist.

"Take it all".

Urwen shook her head.

"You have already given up a leg for him. _For us_ " she whispered and cut a lock of her mother's hair, leaving two fingers from the hairline. Her mother sighed and closed her eyes. Her breathing became slow and steady and Urwen squeezed her mother's hands one last time, before leaving the tent in which she rested along with the few others injured.

The stars shone far away and their light was cold in comparison of the pyres light, built to burn the Orcs. The smoke rose high and black into the air and looked like it was trying to catch them, to obscure their clear light. Around her noisy King Graymantle's soldiers were moving. Their steps were not accompanied by the gentle rustling of leaves or fabric, but by the sound of rubbing leather and rattling metal.

There was none of her companions between them.

Urwen walked where she had last seen the King. There were no more bodies of her fallen comrades, nor those of the Orcs, but traces of their black blood tainted the ground still. Pits were dug in that area and the bodies had been reassembled, as much as possible. Urwen swallowed and closed her eyes.

_How many were there?_

King Greymantle's soldiers worked in silence, throwing corpses on the pyres or digging graves for the dead. They did not stopped her, nor asked for help.

Urwen walked past the graves of her companions, refusing to see their tortured bodies. She wanted to remember how they looked alive. She reached the pit around which some survivors gathered, two healers and three warriors, including Rhosdir, who, like her, were not so injuried that they could not walk.

Rhosdir knelt, broken arm hanging around his neck, and the healer cut off his tail of dark hair, giving it to him. He pressed it to his heart and, after a moment, he threw it into the pit.

Urwen shook Rhosdir shoulder and looked down.

That thing in the pit was not the King. That thing had the King's silvery hair, had his clothes, torn and bloodied, had his broken wooden spear at his side, but it was not the King. Urwen gulped and closed her eyes on that face that he was no longer a face, crushed and bloody, to bring to her mind his proud profile. She opened her eyes and was unable to ignore his wife's body next to him, and his son and his cousins and... Many of them left the woods, with heavy heart but a resolute look, despite the threat. So many of them gathered that, while marching, she had not been able to see either the head or the tail of their column. Yet the Orcs were more than ten times their number. More than ten of their lines.

Urwen wiped her tears and sniffed.

She took the strand of hair that had cut from her mother and threw it into the pit. She undid the braid that was fastened around her head. Then she cut it, at the nape of the neck, bringing it to her heart and closed her eyes.

_May the Father of All protect you from the Dark Hunter._

Urwen dropped the braid into the pit and stepped back.

How many deaths. And so few lived, all wounded.

The Silvans had not reached Ossiriand without tribulations, had told her mother.

Yet that battle, that endless mass of Orcs... The King could never have predicted something never seen. None of them could. What the Dark Hunter had poured against them was hatred, destruction and corruption to destroy them.

If they would not have responded to the call of King Greymantle, that evil wave would have hit their green forests, would have corrupted and burnt them and they would not have been able to defend themselves. They would have lost their freedom. She was sure of it.

But why did the King go to battle without even wearing reinforced leather? Why did so many of them believe that it was not necessary to protect themselves?

But would it really help, being armed and protected by iron and leather as all King Graymantle's soldiers?

***

Urwen lifted one of the Orcs' shields. It was heavier and bigger than her wooden shield and it was coarse. She threw it away and took one of their weapons. It was a sword, the straight blade ending in a tip.

If their weapons were made with this cold metal, could they have killed more Orcs? If their bows were heavier, and the tips of their arrows were of iron, could they penetrate those iron armor?

"You look thoughtful, young maid."

Urwen looked up at King Graymantle's soldier. She narrowed her eyes: his long hair were left loose on the shoulders and he wore one of those garments that seemed woven in iron.

Urwen planted the Orc's sword into the ground.

"I thought that only the Hairy People knew the way of sowing and shaping stone seeds".

The Elf smiled at her, an indulgent smile on those thin lips and his eyes sparkled amused.

"Having exchanges with Naugrim has own its advantages, as you can see." He spread his arms and his garments clinked.

Urwen came over and laid a hand on his robe. The tunic, composed of small metal rings, adhered perfectly to his body and followed his movements as a garment. His shoulders were protected by plates of the same metal and thus the forearms and the back of his hands. Alongside he carried a sword and a shield was sideways behind his back.

She wanted to try that tunic.

She wanted to try other Hairy People's creations.

She lifted the corner of her mouth into a smile. "So it seems."

Urwen glanced on the Orc's sword. Would weapons of that material be more effective than stone ones? Could they break those irons protections without cracking or chipping like stone ones? How were the arrowheads? What were the metal weaknesses and strengths?

"Our King will return to his court," the Elf said.

Urwen looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"You survivors could join us."

She blinked and opened her mouth. Join King Graymantle's people?

Urwen and the other survivors had decreed that they would not choose another King. They would return in Ossiriand, in the forests that they had defended so dearly. Returning there to live along the rivers and into the trees, after that battle, would not be the same.

And what would happen if such a threat from the North threatened them again?

The Elf put his hands behind his back. "How many of you were left?"

Urwen pursed her lips and her heart crushed remembering those who had fallen on that hill. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"A fifth of all those who left the woods."

The Elf put a hand on her shoulder.

"How many remained in Ossiriand?"

Urwen held down her gaze. "A few".

"Think about it" he said, squeezing her shoulder. He turned, metal clinking.

What to do? Leaving the land they had defended so dearly, to join their brothers under King Greymantle? Or going back home, with mourning hearts, and live hidden and without a King?

Urwen raised her head. "What is your name?"

The Elf turned his head, surprise arching his brows.

"You can call me Mablung, young maid".

Urwen lifted her chin. "If I'll join you, Mablung, will I have my axe blade in this metal?"

The Elf eyes sparkled in the starlight while he raised a corner of his mouth.

"Maybe".

Urwen put her hand to her heart.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Mablung".

He bowed his head and took him to put his hand to the heart.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting, young maid."

**Author's Note:**

> I tryed to use the less ammount of elvish for two reason. (1) I don’t know it and (2) I think here we are in a moment where Nandor have their own dialect. So…  
> King Graymantle = Thingol (yeah yeah)  
> Hairy People = Dwarves!  
> Lord of Forest = Oromë  
> Queen of Earth = Yavannah  
> Queen of the Stars = Elbereth  
> Dark Hunter = lovely Melkor


End file.
